Boomerang
by calicoskies4ever
Summary: AU Lionel and Lex start working things out but when he goes to visit Clark, Lionel is kiddnaped by Bizzaro and Lex and Clark have to work together to save him. Lots of slash, Lexionel, Clex, Clionel, BizzaroLionel, BizzaroLex and BizzaroClark
1. My Father, My Lover, Myself

Hopefully now that I have taken away the disclaimer that this story shouldn't exist, because it SHOULD, you will read it. PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE READ!

"Amy's going out with John, now she's dating Paul, Paul was dating Kelsey, and Kelsey used to go out with me, after I broke up with Amy. Everybody's had, everybody's had everybody. Everybody's had, everybody's had everybody once or twice," Tony Scalzo

Lex's POV:

When I tell my father, "I want you out of my life," what I'm really saying is please don't leave me, and he knows it. Dad's been able to read me since I was a little boy, and he knows everything I'm going to say and do, before I do it, most times before I even know. Of course, I can't let on that I'm feeling needy, desperate. So, when he asks me to stay with everything but his actual voice, I do the only thing I can do.

I turn and start to walk away, but my father grabs me by the arm, pulling me back towards him. He holds me close, staring directly into my eyes, our lips only inches apart, bodies practically pressed together. I need to get up now, get away from him, far, far away, before I do something stupid. "Dad, don't," I whisper, as he leans in to kiss me.

Naturally, he doesn't listen. Dad presses his mouth to mine, pushing against me with such force that my lips open involuntarily, and his rough, strong tongue wriggles inside, rolling around, knotting itself with mine. I moan, loudly, as he draws his head back, smiling at me.

"Are you sure you want me out of your life?" he asks, squeezing my wrist more tightly, his eyes glancing down at my waist. "It certainly doesn't seem that way from here. Perhaps I should get a closer look." Then he drags me across the room, lowering me into my swivel chair. "Off," he orders, nodding towards my pants.

"No," I try to tell him. But there isn't an ounce of strength in my voice. He laughs, lowering himself to the floor, kneeling beside me, ripping my belt off so hard that the buckle actually snaps breaks. The button flies across the room, as Dad tears the left and right sides of my pants apart, yanking them over my waist, and down towards the floor. My cock has been so hard for so long, that it's practically tearing a hole through my black silk briefs.

"Tell the truth, Son." Dad reaches up with one hand, cupping my jaw between his fingers, and forced me to look at him. "Or should I just leave you in this—condition?" All I can do is shake my head. I'm almost afraid of what I might do if I try to speak. "I am going to need a verbal response Lex. Do you want me to continue or not?" he asks.

"Don't. Stop," I manage to whisper, but he doesn't move, except to gently run his hand down the side of my face, like he did when I was a child. I try to look around the room, but my whole world seems to be spinning. If he doesn't help me out soon, I'm gonna cum all over my underpants. "Please Dad; I need you to give me a hand here." In an instant, his smooth hands yank the waistband down, sliding them to my knees.

Then his hands are on my hips, and his mouth wrapped around my spasming cock, licking, sucking, and flicking his tongue against the shaft. An intense wave of ecstasy washes over my body, and I see nothing but a grayish silver haze, as the cum shoots out of me and into his mouth, some of it even dribbling out over his lip.

"I suppose I should be leaving now," he says nonchalantly, wiping his mouth with a monogrammed handkerchief. "Depending on what you will allow me to take with, I can be gone forever by this afternoon. I'm sorry, Lex. All I ever wanted was to give you the best of everything. You're right son. It's best for both of us if I am no longer part of your life."

Then he vanishes into the hall, and I stand up, chasing after him, but my pants are a mess, and I have to hold them up, and together with one hand, and even then, it's awkward trying to run like that. "Well," Dad chuckles, looking at his watch, and then glancing back towards me. "It certainly took you long enough."

"You don't need to leave, Dad, not yet anyway. If you wanted to stay for a while, we could go back to my room and—talk," I offer up, still trying to maintain at least a molecule of control, praying that he will let me have it, in more ways than one.

"If a conversation is all you want, Lex, we can _talk_ in the car, while you drive me to—a—to wherever you would like for me to stay, presuming you still want me out of your life." God, no wonder we don't get along. My father is the biggest, most patronizing, manipulative jerk on the planet, in the universe. He lies to me, treats me like crap, talks to me like I'm a child, screws with my head just for the fun of it, and then he expects me to just forgive him, and pretend that everything is okay?

Fuck him! Let's see how long he can survive on his on. Maybe I really should kick him to the curb. Yeah, right, like I could actually do that. I have no strength when it comes to him, no control, not over him, not even over myself. I can't even receive a hug from my father without falling completely under his spell.

"I guess you're gonna want to regain control of Luthorcorp now, aren't you? And if want to stay I'd e—that would be alright with me."

"Well, Lex, I just don't know. That hardly sounds like you want me here, and it doesn't make up for your previous comments now, does it?"

"Aw, my poor, pitiful Daddy. Did I hurt your feelings? Come on, since when do you give any credence to anything I have to say?"

"Since you grew up, got smarter, and even managed to steal my company—even if that only happened because you convinced the FBI to send me to prison."

"I just said you could have it back."

"This is not some baseball card or comic book that you grabbed from my room when I wasn't looking. You can't hand it back to me, bat your eyelashes, and say, 'sorry.'" We've been standing in the hallway, with the sunlight shining down on us, through the stained glass windows, casting purple and gold shadows across the floor, but now Dad starts to lead me towards his bedroom.

"Then what do you want me to do?" I ask, taking his hand with the one that is not holding my pants up, and trying to smile, despite the tension. My father stops in front of his door, looking me over hungrily, licking his lips. "So the only way I can earn your respect back is to let you fuck me?"

"Don't be crude, Lex. I have wanted you and I to be able to work side by side, from the moment you were born, from the moment I first learned your mother was pregnant. Perhaps this is the correct time to initiate those plans. As far as your other concern goes, you and I enjoy spending time together, being intimate, so why shouldn't do that?"

"Well for one thing I'm married."

"To a woman who doesn't love you," he shoots back, cruelly.

"Which is actually an even better for us to avoid being—intimate. Imagine what would happen if an angry Lana walked in on father and son Luthor fucking each other's brains out?"

"If you give Lana what she wants, I'm sure she won't find it necessary to dispense that particular information, or any of your other secrets for that matter."

"And how much do you think that is going to cost us?" I ask, trying to put as much emphasis on the _us_ part as possible. Ever since I can remember, I have wanted my father and I to be an us, a team. I just want him to love me.

"A divorce and an apology from you, and my word that I won't hurt Clark in any way, shape, or form, and our promise that she never has to have anything to do with either one of us again." I think I can handle that, all of it.

"Us? I like the sound of that…but what would you ever do to Clark Kent?" I ask, wrapping my fingers around the doorknob, twisting it, and letting _us_ both inside. Dad kisses me softly, pushing me further, pulling the door shut behind him. Then he slides my pants, and the knotted bundle of underpants off, dropping them into a black puddle on the floor, as he goes to work on my shirt, slowly unbuttoning it an inch at a time, kissing my pale chest as he goes, and occasionally roughly flicking his tongue against my nipples.

"Ah, to be young and in love," my father smirks, glancing down at my once gain hardening penis. He slowly starts to remove his own clothes, slowly, as if her were purposely torturing me, by trying to make this part last forever. We are both finally naked; he lays me down on the bed, pushing my hips up, with his legs propped up against his shoulders, so that we can make love, while looking at each other.

Afterwards, he holds me in his arms, and I lay down with my head against his chest, listening to his heart beat, yawning, but trying to stay awake. I can't stop thinking about Clark. It's really bugging me. "Something bothering you, Lex?" he asks, running his fingers down my spine, gently pressing them into the small of my back.

"Earlier, you mentioned something about promising Lana that you'd leave Clark alone, that you wouldn't hurt him, and I guess I was just a little concerned, especially since you never answered me, when I asked why you would hurt him, and how."

"Lex, this obsession you have with Clark Kent, it's unhealthy. He hates you for stealing Lana. He thinks she is the girl of his dreams. You need to let this go, Son. You lost any chance you ever had with him a long time ago."

"Yeah, I'll get right on giving up on him, and while we're at it, you gonna stop chasing after Mama Kent, and finally tell her the truth about the part you played in her husbands death, or at least mention the fact that you were there? Just tell me you aren't going to hurt Clark, please."

"Believe me, Lex; I wouldn't lay a hand on that young man…at least not in any way which would cause him physical harm." And even though he's trying to reassure me, I can't help but worry. Maybe I should go to the farm tomorrow and have a talk with him.

Then I pick up the phone, and call Lana's cell phone. When I tell her that our marriage is over, if that's what she still wants, which she says it is, I have to hold the phone away from my ear because the multiple shouts of joy from Lana and—I think—Chloe are so loud they nearly blow out my eardrum.


	2. Who Are You?

AN: So this story actually has a plot now. I didn't discover that until I had finished chapter two, but I did update the summery, and without further ado, here is the second chapter.

"Yes I know you got some doubts. I know you don't believe. I know you think I'm crazy, yeah but I know you're just like me. When I hear that voice inside me, makes me want to jump right in saying, "here we go again," Everclear

From the first moment Lionel had set eyes on Clark Kent, he knew that even at the tender age of three, he was angelic, and spectacularly beautiful. As the boy got older, his beauty seemed to grow as well, until he reached the point where no one, not even Jonathan Kent could deny it. This fact was particularly concerning for Jonathan, who worried that outside forces might try and corrupt the boy.

So they locked him away on the farm, keeping him as far from the rest of the world as possible, like a princess being held captive by an evil ogre. Only, the Kent's were right. They had every reason to keep Clark at home, to keep him away from people, especially people like the Luthor family.

Whenever he was near Clark, Lionel felt this overwhelming urge to touch him, hold him, kiss him, do things to him, and Jonathan must have sensed this, because he had forbidden the boy from seeing the older man, or any Luthor for that matter. Unfortunately, Clark's emotions _were_ human.

Like any other teenager who had been forbidden from doing something Clark found himself suddenly needing the Luthors, Lionel more than Lex, and he would sneak over several times a day, and at all hours of the night. Lionel had been horrified at first, and he sent Clark home. Thoughts of Jonathan Kent and the other villagers coming after him with fiery torches filled his dreams, but Clark's beauty, his splendor, and determination, were far too great, and Lionel could not resist.

The first time they made love, Clark had been awkward, and clumsy, but Luthor had chalked that up to nerves, and ignored it. He even allowed Clark's overeagerness to slip by, believing that it must be the nerves, but as more and more time went by, he began to notice the fact that Clark was not getting any better at sex.

Still, Lionel did not need the relationship. He tired showing the boy books, _The Karma Sutra,_ _the Joy of Sex_, etcetera, but nothing helped. Clark never seemed to gain any extra knowledge, any sense of fully comprehending what he was doing. Perhaps, Lionel thought, it was because things were different on Krypton, or maybe he really was inexperienced. He seemed unable to open himself up, to allow himself to vulnerable.

Clark was shy, timid, and Lionel had always felt, even after his secret was reveled, that the boy had been holding something back. Once or twice, probably when he had been infected with red Kryptonite, he had witnessed the raven-haired beauty behaving in a way which was not normal. He had almost no inhibitions, and was in several ways stronger. It was as if whatever held him back ordinarily had melted away in an explosion of ferocity, and rage.

At those times, Clark was miraculous in bed, open, willing, strong, courageous, perceptive. These periods of times were always brief though, and they were always followed by several weeks of inexplicable absences on the part of the young Kent boy. Lionel was a patient man, however, and so he waited (longingly) for the days when Clark would show up, dressed all in dark, his hair tussled, lips turned upwards in a wolfish smile.

When Lionel dropped by the farm on that warm may morning, however, Clark Kent was behaving in a new and different way. He was dressed in black, which was normal for these little outbursts, but when he first laid eyes on Lionel, it was as if he did not recognize the man. Something was wrong with his face as well. Clark seemed pale, very pale, ad his jaw, his facial bones seemed sharp, angular.

"Clark, it's me," Lionel offered, reaching out to touch the boy's face, and was surprised by the strength with which Clark squeezed his fingers. "What are you doing? That is—stop it Clark," he ordered, and the figure obeyed, but stared at Lionel with hunger in his eyes. Lionel and the boy held hands, and Lionel ran the fingers of his other hand through his hair, leaning in to kiss, him, but Clark pulled back. "What is the matter? You are behaving as if…"

"It's not what you think," the young man tried to reassure him. Then he leaned in close to Lionel, whispering softly. "I am not feeling much like myself today." Lionel smiled, once gain taking the nervous young man by the hand, and leading him upstairs, towards the bedroom.

Clark Kent's bedroom was quaint, small, with light blue carpet, a plaid bedspread, posters of the stars and other planets on the walls, red curtains over his windows, and yellow-brown desk, covered with papers, blocks which read C-l-a-r-k, and a laptop computer. Lionel kissed his soft, but slightly cold lips.

"It's unfortunate that you are not well. Perhaps there is something I can do about that," Lionel suggested, gently pushing him towards the bed. "Or perhaps you would be more comfortable if you just rested, took a nap maybe. The dark haired boy nodded. "Clark?" Lionel asked, uncomfortably. Something was very wrong here, but he could not place it.

"I'm feeling a little, bizarre, but other than that, nothing has changed," Clark explained, as he lay down on the bed, kicking his shoes off and looking up at Lionel. "I think I should take your advice, about the nap thing." He yawned, but Lionel knew it was not a real one.

"Well then, if you feel that way, I suppose I should leave, at least for the time being." Lionel started walking towards the door. Then he heard a whooshing sound and Clark's body was standing right in front of him, holding the older man about six inches off of the ground. "Put me down right now. Thank you. Why did you do that?" The boy interrupted Lionel's thoughts, with an abrupt and rough kiss. "Tell me, or I'll grab a chunk of Kryptonite from the closet.

"You don't want to do that," the boy warned, pushing Lionel back towards the bed. "I'm different now and that stuff doesn't hurt me anymore. Why don't you join me for that nap," he suggested. "Come on, you know you want to." Lionel did not follow because he had been taunted, but because the taunt was correct. He _did_ want to. "Don't worry," The young man promised, "I'll tell you everything eventually."

"You're not Clark. This has something to do with one of Lex's experiments, doesn't it?" Instead of answering the boy, who was most definitely not Clark Kent, pulled Lionel down onto the bed, and kissed him again. Then they were both naked, and when everything was over, Lionel stared at the non-Clark, his eyes suddenly wide with horror. "You're that thing! Where is Clark? What did you do to him?" Lionel tried to get up and run off, but he couldn't move. The dark haired figure was holding him still. Then the world went black, as Bizzaro hit him hard on the head and he passed out.

When Lionel awoke sometime later, he was in a dark, windowless room. It was cold and smelled slightly damp, which probably meant he was in a basement, or cellar somewhere, but Lionel had no way of telling where. He was tied to a chair, no longer naked, and his head ached. Luthor tried moving his arms with no luck. The same went for his feet; the binding was far too tight to allow him any chance of escape.

Where was he? How long had he been there? Did Lex know he was missing? Would Lex even care? What about Clark? Why hadn't he stopped that thing? Was Clark hurt? Had that thing done something to him? He had to get out of this room. He had to do something. "Clark?" he yelled as loudly as his vocal chords would allow. "Clark? CLARK CAN YOU HEAR ME? Help!" Lionel would have continued to shout until his voice disappeared all together, but he heard the sound of a deadbolt being turned.

A door squeaked, allowing a sliver of light into his cell. Then the room was flooded with bright, white florescent lights. Lionel squeezed his eyes shut. He must have been in this position for quite some time. Luthor heard the footsteps approaching him, and then they stopped, but he would not look. Lionel told himself that nothing would make him look at the other man.

"I wouldn't waist my breath if I were you. He won't find you here. He can't. This room is coated in six layers of lead based paint. Not that he's looking for you anyway. Well, goodbye now." The footsteps receded, walked back up the stairs, and just as the door was closing, Lionel could hear Bizzaro laughing. This was the worst situation he had ever found himself in. This was not good. Silently, Lionel wondered how long he could last, and didn't try to fight the handful of tears that slid down his cheeks.


	3. Heart of the Matter

Author's notes: so you've probably noticed that chapter two was in Lionel's POV. I think I'm going to stick with Lex for the rest of the story, although there might be a short section in Clark's. Now I don't know if it's because nobody is reading this, or if you're feeling lazy, or if it's just being slow and annoying, but so far there are no reviews on this story. So, no more updates until I get at least one review. Thanks in advance, and here's another chapter in Lex's POV.

"I've been trying to get down  
to the heart of the matter  
But my will gets weak  
and my thoughts seem to scatter  
But I think its about forgiveness  
Forgiveness  
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore," Don Henley

Clark doesn't pick up the phone when I call the house, nor does he answer his cell phone, or return any of the eleven messages I leave for him. Not that I can actually blame him or anything. If I were Clark, or Lana, Chloe, Lois, Martha, or anyone else for that matter, but still...he could at least call meback, but he doesn't do that.

Clark doesn't call me back, but he does come by the mansion eventually. He storms up to me, like he's about to punch my lights out, and even after he gets right up in my face, I'm not completely sure he won't do it.

"What the Hell do you want from me?" he shouts, his fist moving closer and closer to my jaw, until it's only a millimeter away, and then he stops himself. "I'm sorry; I never meant to do that. I wasn't gonna—I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"We're not dating. I stole your girlfriend, and we were supposed to be pals, I deserve to get slugged, but uh, if you could just wait a few days, please. It's been a crappy enough day already; a broken jaw might be enough to push me over the edge."

"_You_ had a bad day? Lana came to see me this morning. She said she was still in love with me, and that you wouldn't let her leave. I think she was hoping I was either gonna kill you or beat you into a coma. And I couldn't do it, so I went to tell her that, and it turns out she was only using me so I would get you out of the picture, and so she could be with…"

"Chloe, I know. _You _might have gotten played by your ex-girlfriend, but my wife left me!"

"You never loved herm" Clark interrupts me; I suppose getting back at me for doing the same thing to him. "You only even started dating her to hurt me."

"Well I did love her—once upon a time, but the whole marriage thing was a bad idea."

"The worst one you've ever had."

"Would you like a drink?" Clark nods, and I pour us each a generous helping of brandy. "I almost threw my father out this morning, but we just ended up—uh…he told me something sort of strange today, and I thought that I should, I think I had better warn you about this one."

"He told Lana that he would kill me, if she didn't marry you. I know. She told me." Clark swallows his whole drink in one giant gulp, which is enough to send shivers down my spine, and I almost vomit.

"Take it easy, there; you don't want your first drink to be your last, do you?"

"You really don't know, huh?" Clark asks, moving closer towards me, reaching out with his rough palm, running it down the side of my face. "Lex, I don't how to exactly tell you this, um—I guess I'm still a little nervous," his voice trails off, and Clark looks away.

"Clark, you don't have to tell me anything, yet. I haven't exactly earned your trust."

"You can say that again. Sorry. I shouldn't keep being mean to you, especially today. It's just—I guess it's been pretty bad for both of us. I just wish there was some way we could make each other feel," he stops, moving closer to me, this time closing in on my face with his lips, and he kisses me, hard on the mouth. Clark pushes me into a wall, slamming me up against it roughly.

"Ouch," I scream in mock pain. He did the whole thing pretty slowly, and even though he basically threw me into a stone wall, he was gentle, and I managed to brace myself before I hit. Clark smiles, looking down at me, grinding his crotch against mine, hard enough to leave bruises.

"I hate you," he says over, and over, between even more rough kisses. "I hate you, I," he pauses, inhaling sharply. "I hate—you. I—hate—you," he says, the last one with no strength at all, and except for the violent kisses and the agonizing thrusts, his anger seems to have dissipated

"I love you too, Clark, and I'm sorry. I left you, and I took your girlfriend as a parting gift." This time he does hit me, on the left side of my chest, hard in the collar bone, and he brings his hand up to my shoulder, forcing to my knees. "Clark?" I whisper, almost terrified. Clark leans over, biting my neck, sucking on it, hard.

"I don't wanna hurt you," He says, shakily, still holding me down on my knees. "I don't like hurting you, but you—you've hurt so many people. I—you hurt me, lied to me, spied on me, and you hurt Lana."

"She can take care of herself, Clark. That is one tough chick. I'd hate to think what she might have done to me if I didn't let her go," I admit, looking up into Clark's eyes. I'm trying to look anywhere except for the crotch of his pants, his hard cock, practically popping out of those skin tight jeans.

"I would have killed you, or at least hurt you pretty badly, because she asked me to. Because needed me to rescue her."

"You've got a serious hero complex, Clark. I think you should see someone about that."

"Can't you help me?" Clark asks, his eyelids flutter ever-so-slightly, long beautiful lashes batting at me. "Isn't there anything you can do?" His voice is so soft, so desperate, it makes me wish there was more I could do.

"Well I can help you to feel better by—you know." I kiss the smooth patch of fabric, covering his zipper. "And we can talk about the other thing, but you help a lot of people. You do a lot of good. Maybe it's better if you actually don't work on that. I hate to think of all the suffering there would be without people like you in the world."

"So is it a good thing, or a bad thing, the way I—you know, something, Lex? I'm never more confused about things as I am when you and I spend time together, and it's got nothing to do with the gay thing. You just make everything you're involved with so confusing."

"You think you're confused, imagine how I feel. My entire life I was raised by—my father—and…well let's just say that I lead an interesting life before I met you, but until we became friends, I never doubted myself, no matter what I did, I never felt bad about the things I'd done, or even the people I hurt until you came into my life."

"Yeah, well if you didn't hurt people you wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. And just because you sit there telling me that you feel bad, doesn't mean I'm going to forgive you for all the shit you put me through."

"I don't suppose it would help my case any if I sucked you off, would it? I mean—that sounded really bad. I—do you want me to do this or not?"

"I dunno," Clark says, shuffling back and forth on his feet, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants. His cheeks are the color of fresh tomatoes. I think he's trying to play hard to get, but that's nearly impossible to do with blue balls. "Lex, please." He squirms uncomfortably. Part of my brain is thinking about the power I have over him right now, and is already formulating a plan to take advantage of Clark's current weakness, but I don't listen to that Part.

Instead, I pull his pants off, and lower his boxers, and wrap my mouth around his hard dick. I don't know if it's because he hasn't gotten any in so long, or because we were standing here dicking around for an eternity, but Clark cums, about two seconds after I get his pant s off, and then he turns around, blushing, even more, trying to pull his jeans back up, but fumbling with the buttons.

"You know something, Clark?" I ask, standing up, and putting my arm around his shoulder. Clark shakes his head, still looking at the floor, even after I lead him over to the sofa, and we sit down together. "You are actually the second person to have received a blowjob in this office today."

"What are you talking about? I always thought—okay, that's not fair. Lana dumped you, and you guys still did it! Meanwhile, I was gonna kill someone for her and all I got was a lousy kiss on the cheek." Clark turns away, pouting again."

"Well, as wonderful as that would have been, Lana was not the one on her hands and knees this morning. It was—um—I not sure I should be telling you this."

"Well, if it's not about Lana, then you've got some other reason for telling me, besides wanting to brag, which means It's probably important, or it probably leads up to something important." I'm not sure when exactly Clark got to be so smart, but I'm angry with myself for missing it. He is right though.

There is something important I wanted to tell him, about my father, and I was using the fact that we'd had sex to make him a little more comfortable, like an icebreaker or something. I know that Clark and Dad have a relationship all their own, and I don't want to destroy that based on one weird comment from my father, but if Clark is in danger, he has a right to know. I'm afraid of tell him, afraid of what will happen.

I know exactly how he's going to react. Clark will be scared, briefly, and then he'll get mad at my father, and then at me—which is what I'm really afraid of. Telling him this will be upsetting but there's always the possibility of Clark not believing me. He could think the reason I told him was to get the two of them fighting and not listen to a word I have to say on the subject.

Or he could believe me, and it might turn out that I am wrong. Clark could confront my father, with the information I gave him, only to discover that I heard him wrong, or took a joke to seriously.

I want an easy life. One where I don't have to think about anything more complicated than whose turn it is to set the dinner table. Why can't I have that? Why did I have to be born a Luthor who then fell in love with the strangest farm boy in all of Kansas, in all the world. "Lex?" he asks, turning and looking at me strangely. 'What is it?"

"Listen, Clark, I know that tins between you and my father are—just as complicated—than my relationship with him, and I don't wanna tell you something that could put what you guys have in jeopardy, but...regardless of everything that's happened, I still love you. I still consider us to be friends, sometimes more."

"Lana said he told her he would kill me if she didn't show up and say I do. I'm sorry I blamed you for that one. Looks like you didn't know it was bad. Lex, I wouldn't have said anything, I just thought he told you everything, or maybe you—I dunno what I thought."

Sometimes I hate my father, which makes the times when I don't all the more difficult. A man like that, nobody should be able to love him and yet I do, Clark does. I think I'm in trouble here.

"That's why I called you so many times. I didn't know exactly what had happened, what he had done, what he might do. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I wanted to know that you were okay, even if you hate me, I still care about you.

"You were worried about me? The great Lex Luthor is scared?" Clark teases, starting to giggle. "I shouldn't be laughing, but this whole thing is so weird."

"What whole thing?"

"You, caring. I'm not used to that. It's strange, and you know that means something coming from me. Anyway, I don't think we need to worry I went looking for your dad earlier, and I couldn't find him. I think he went to Metropolis or something to hide for a while." I hear Clark say these words, but I know that can't possibly be right.

"No, he wouldn't have done that. My father was looking for you. Dad said he anted to _talk_, and we both know what that means. He wouldn't have left town without seeing you first. My father doesn't hide from anything."

"I thought you said you guys 'talked' this morning." I must be having a really bad influence on Clark. He's starting to act bitter, and sarcastic. He's turning into a kinder, gentler version of me.

"Yeah, but he wanted to see you too. I can't describe it. My father is like a—he wanted to see you too. Te fact that he didn't means that something is stopping him. Something is keeping him away."

"Or that's what he wants us to think."

"Either way, we have a problem. I want you to stay here for a while, just in case there is something going on here."

"If someone is holding Lionel against his will, then we need—they might try and hurt you too. I can keep that from happening. I'm going with you, Lex. We can figure this thing out together, as a team."

Maybe it's a bad idea getting Clark mixed up in this before I know what's going on, but how can I say no to that? He wants to be a team. He wants to work with me. This is exactly what I have always wanted.

"Okay," I tell him, as we both pull on our clothes, and start heading for the garage. "Where do we start first?" I ask, already knowing the answer. We're going to the farm, and if there's nothing there, Clark's gonna wanna talk to Chloe.


	4. Kidnapp

So I lied, here's the next chapter. Please read. Please review. Also, I'm writing Lana as the stupid slut she truly is. Sorry all you Lana fans.

"Was it something I said, or was it something you read  
That's making me think that I should never have come here  
I can offer you lies, I can tell you good-bye,  
I can tell you I'm sorry, But I can't tell you the truth, dear  
And what if I could - would it do any good?" Barenaked Ladies

My father's car is parked in front of the Kent's house, and there are shoe prints leading up from the car to the front porch, that match his shoes. Other than that, there is not a trace of him anywhere nearby. Clark and I search the farm, up and down, without finding him. So, either my father did really go into hiding, or somebody took him.

The question is who in the world would take my father from a farm in Smallville Kansas. I suppose it would be the perfect place for a kidnapping, in theory. There's nobody around to hear or see them, but at the same time there's nobody here kidnappers or otherwise.

"Maybe I should just wait in the car," I suggest to Clark, when we get to the Talon, but he won't let me. Clark grabs my hand, pulling me through the door and up the stairs to the apartment. He knocks, and someone looks through the peephole. I can hear a soft, angry grunt.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Chloe's voice is accusatory, pissed off, mean, although after everything that's happened, I don't think I can blame her. The door doesn't open. I'm not sure what to say, and I think about running away, but Clark, sensing this, squeezes my hand so tightly that he cracks my knuckles.

"Lex's dad went missing. We need your help to try and find him," Clark explains. I squeeze his hand back, already knowing what they are going to say to us.

"Why should we do anything to help Lionel Luthor? Why should we even care?" This time it's Lana who answers, and not Chloe. I think about how much he's hurt her, how much he's hurt me, and I almost agree with her.

"Because you're a better person than he is, and if my father dies because you didn't help, you'll feel guilty, and if we do find him, dead or alive, I promise to make sure you have enough money to take care of yourselves for the rest of your lives, and if you decide to have any kids, I'll pay for their education, and anything else they need."

"We don't need your money," Chloe says, and I can tell that Lana is thinking the exact same thing."

"But it wouldn't hurt. Look, I know my father isn't a very good man," I stop, ignoring their laughter. "But he is my father and I love him. I want to be—I can't find him by myself. I need help. I need your help. I'm begging. From now on, after we find him, I will never try to contact or come near you again. I'll arrange a restraining order if you want it in writing. I know my word means nothing to you but…"

Then the door unlocks, and Chloe lets us inside. I can't see Lana; she's probably in the back bedroom, hiding from me, maybe from Clark too, but mostly from me.

"We want to have a baby," Chloe informs me as she starts typing away on the computer. "I'm trying to track his cell phone, but damn, it's not turned on. No one's trying to use his credit cards, big surprise. Huh, that's strange. Clark, we need to talk in the other room."

"I know about his—Clark told me he's from another planet, if that's what this is about." Chloe stares at me in disbelief.

"Well, it looks like someone's been wreaking havoc all over town. We've got small fires, and some guy ripped the roof off of a squad car. The cops tried shooting at him, but they say the bullets were just bouncing off his chest.

"So this guy has all of Clark's ability—," there's a loud whooshing sound, and Clark is gone. Chloe doesn't even look up at me, but from the corner of my eye, I can see Lana, peaking out of the room, trying to look and see if 'm gone too.

"You mentioned the baby, because you want Clark's help with that? Or do you want me to help you guys adopt?"

"Actually," Lana says, stepping into the room, and walking right up to me. "We want you to help us _make_ a baby." Lana wraps her arms around me, leaning in and planting an awkward kiss on my lips. "And not because I'm trying to get money from you. I want you," she whispers in a deep, sexy voice, "to be the father of my child. We'd make beautiful babies together."

"I would have thought that after what—you've been through, sex with me, would be the last thing on your mind," I say, gently removing her arms from my neck. "I will do whatever it takes to help you have a child, but I can't—I'm not comfortable—with—doing that with"

"I take the whole Lex Luthor coming out of the closet thing is strictly off the record, right?" Chloe asks, looking up from her computer momentarily. "I guess I have to thank you for helping us out, but that doesn't mean I'm going to just forgive you."

"I don't know if it's a good idea for the two of you to be raising a child with Luthor DNA, who might even look like me. You guys hate my guys, and with good reason, but I hate to…I don't want that hate to get taken out on an innocent child. I know how the world feels about Luthors, how you feel..."

"Our baby won't be a Luthor, and if you don't wanna help, you can just say that. You don't need to be rude about it," Lana tells me, pouting and taking a few steps away from me, before walking across the room, and standing next to Chloe.

"Don't worry, Lana, he's gong to give us exactly what we want, right, Lex?" Chloe's got that tone right now, the reporter voice, and I know she's about to threaten me with a tell-all story or a book, about what happened between Lana and me, when we were married."

"I will donate a sample, as many as you need—so you can have _one_ child, two if you have twins. If things—if there is a problem—I will do whatever it takes to make sure you guys get your baby. May I leave now?"

They both nod. I race down the stairs and out to my car so fast that I knock Lois flat on her ass. At least I can laugh at something today. When I get in the Fearri, I lock all of the doors, gripping the steering wheel as tightly as possible, taking in lots of deep breaths. Then my cell phone rings. Beethoven's fifth symphony. Dad!

"Dad? Where are you? What's going on? I went by the Kent's this afternoon, but you weren't there. I tried your phone, and it was turned off, I've been trying to reach you for hours. What's going on?"

"If you ever want to see your father again, it's going to cost you $5,000,000 in unmarked bills. If you call the police, I'll kill him. If you don't pick up the phone the next time I call, I'll kill him." And then the person hangs up. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded like Clark, but at the same time not like him. I tried to get out of the car, and back upstairs before he could hang up, but the man was too quick.


	5. Ransom

"I wish I could fly, I know I can save us somehow.  
You thought you were safe and sound but you need a hero now.  
You gotta believe even with broken wings,  
I've come to your rescue and you can't rescue me," American Hi-Fi

When I knock on the door again, Chloe answers with an annoyed, "what did you want," but she does let me back inside nonetheless. "Did you change your mind about Lana's offer?" she says teasing, and yet I can sense that she's as uncomfortable with the idea as I am.

"No, I need your help with something else. I was in the car, a minute ago, and my phone started ringing."

"And you were wondering how to answer it? Well I'm not certain of the specifics of your particular model, but usually if you just flip the top open, and talk into the part with the holes on the bottom—,"

"Chloe, my father has been kidnapped. The reason his phone wasn't on was because he didn't have it with him. The call I got was from the kidnapper. I know that they used his phone, but not where it came from. I need you to run a trace on my phone call so you can find out where he is."

"Why should I do that for you? And don't tell me that Lana and I owe you for the baby thing, if anything you still owe us, and besides, there are plenty of places we could get a baby from."

"Because he's my father and I lo—I care about what happens to him. I need you to do this because I trust your instincts. You really are good at this. Also, I know you can do this without taking my phone away, or destroying it, I need to be able to answer the next time the guy calls back."

"So why don't you just call the police?"

"I'd prefer to deal with privately. Besides, the kidnapper said no cops…and his voice sounded a LOT like Clark's, which means that the police will make him their first suspect, and they would waist at least a day chasing after the wrong guy."

"No to mention the fact that the whole Luthor family is involved in more highly suspicious activities as the Mansons. You're not worried about Clark; you're worried that the police will uncover one of your secret, illegal projects."

"I'm worried about Clark, and my father. And, if my father does die, because you refused to help me, I'll see to it that no matter how long you live, you'll never work anywhere near a newspaper office, not even in the mail room."

"And if I help you, but he dies anyway? Are you going to hold _that_ against me too? I can't believe you just did that. Lex, you're slime, a sleaze ball, but I never thought—forget it. Give me the phone." She starts typing away at the computer, fast enough to give Clark a run for his money. "You don't think it could have actually been Clark, do you?"

"Well we shouldn't rule it out as a possibility, but it can't be a coincidence that someone who looks just like Clark is terrorizing Smallville, and my father disappears while he was looking for Clark—and the man, the kidnapper sounds just like him."

"Okay, you were right, the call did come from your dad's phone, but this is weird. I can't there doesn't seem to be anything—I can't tell where the call came from. It's like the person using the phone was connecting it by himself."

My cell phone blares Beethoven and I grab it on the first ring. I motion to Chloe to try and trace the call live, and then I wait a second or two, listening to the shallow breaths on the other end. I sigh, quietly and open my mouth to speak.

"I want to speak to my father," I tell the person on the other end, and just as I'm about to say more, someone interrupts me.

"Lex?" my father's voice is pained, stressed. In the back of my mind, the image of my father flashes before my eyes. He's tied to a tree stump, shirt ripped open. He's blind folded, his chest painted. There is a loud thundering battle going on behind us. I stand there, watching my father taking in deep breaths. I reach out to touch him and, "Lex, are you there?" Dad draws me out of my trance.

"Yeah," is all I can manage at first. "Dad, what's going on?" I ask, regaining control of my senses. I turn to Chloe who writes 45 more seconds, on a sheet of paper, which means that's how long it will take.

"Lex," he repeats the word, like a life preserver he's trying to hold onto. Then he says two words that are completely unexpected, and shocking. "Project, Aries."

"All right, that's enough," the voice that is most defiantly _not_ my father, and _not_ Clark, tells me. "Bring the money to the entrance of facility under the Reeves Dam. Also, I can't find any more of that green Kryptonite. Bring everything you have. Be there at noon tomorrow, or you're going to be one very lonely little orphan." Then he hangs up.

"Please tell me you got that," I beg Chloe, knowing that while they are probably somewhere in the lab, that facility covers more than an acre of land in total. I could search all day without finding where they are, and if he finds anymore Kryptonite, I can't risk sending Clark.

"Sorry," she says, and I think she means that. "It just wasn't long enough. If it helps any, the trace did narrow it down to Smallville County, at least they haven't left town." Chloe's using that voice, the one which means she has gone into full on reporter mode. "Why don't you just give the guy the money? That's what he wants, right? It's not like you'll miss it."

"I give him the money and he'll return my father alright. He'll send Dad's body back in a trash bag. And he says he wants Kryptonite, a **lot**of it. I just can't do that. I—can't—I just," my voice trails off.

"So you're just going to sit around and do nothing? This is perfect. You come in here threaten me, and now you're not even going to try and get your father back, when you know exactly what the guy wants? What are you doing?" she shouts as I walk towards the door.

"Going home. I have a plan, and it doesn't involve sitting around, or not doing anything." Then I leave again, and race down the stairs. This time when I get about halfway to the front door, I suddenly feel an explosion of pain in my lower back, which casuses me to fall to the floor, and then I see Lois Lane standing over me, a hue smile on her face.

"Don't ever knock me over like that again, or you'll be really sorry," she boasts. I don't really have the time to stand here arguing with the brat, so I'll make my attack quick, and then I'll leave.

"Ollie told me that you snort—like a pig—durring sex. And that he got a rash from that nasty smelling massage oil you used when you gave him that, 'back rub.'"

"Why should _I _believe anything you have to say, especially when it is about something you say my ex-boyfriend told _you_?"

"Because we snuck off during the reunion and had a quickie in the men's room. He was wearing those green and black checkered boxer shorts" I tell her, walking out of the coffee shop. Actually I fell better after that than I did when Dad and I were fucking, even better than when Clark forgave me when we got back together this afternoon.

I wouldn't even mind if Lois manages to squeeze that tiny tid-bit of gossip into an article and sold it to every tabloid in the world. The look on her face was worth it. Plus Oliver would make sure it never saw the printing press anyway.

The first thing I do when I get in the car is phone Clark. "Look um, we need to talk. Think I know what's going on here. Can you come back to the mansion?" I ask.

"Lex?" Clark's voice cuts in and out as I speed down the highway, praying that I can get home first. "What's going on?" He's a bit more forceful this time, but I pretend not to hear him.

"Sorry Clark, but the phone keeps on—hello? Clark? Hello? Hello?" And then I hang up, pretending to have dropped the call. Damnit! Clark lied to me. More than that, he lied and I didn't notice it. Clark must have snuck into the lab to destroy that creature, and somehow it managed to cling to his DNA, creating another Clark, and without anyone around to stop it, the clone went rouge.

But how did Clark get access to the lab—Dad! So they've both been working against me. Maybe I should let that thing just kill my father. No, I can't do it; I'm just not _that_ horrible of a person, yet. I have to talk to Clark.

If he confesses, the n I—if he tells me the truth, I'll try and figure out a way to fix this so we can stay together, but if he fees me another one of his lies, I won't have any choice. Clark storms into my office, for the second time today. Once gain, he's pissed off at me.

"I know your phone didn't drop that call. You have better cell phone service than my phone at home. You hung up on me, because you're hiding something fro me," Clark accuses, pointing his index finger at me.

"It's interesting that you would bring that up, Clark. So, tell me, what exactly did you do when you broke into my laboratory at the Reeves Dam?" Clark shuffles back and forth on his feet, uncomfortably, but he doesn't say a word.


	6. Liar!

"With you it's always lies, lies, lies  
I know that you have lied to me  
So don't even try to play now  
You said you didn't do those type of things  
But you went and did them anyway  
Now there is nothing you can say to me  
There is nothing you can do now  
The awful truth is that you broke my heart  
And now I'm going to break yours too," Everclear

Clark looks at me nervously, his eyes moving all over the room, focusing on anything, just so long as they don't have to make contact with mine. He's still not talking, and I already know that this thing cannot possibly end well for us. Despite my knowing that everything is about to go horribly wrong, I feel myself praying. Please, please, please. Please don't lie to me. Please.

"Well, your dad contacted me and he said that you were trying to create more super soldiers and that it could be really dangerous, and Lex you don't know how serious this thing could be. I mean, you don't even know what that phantom is capable of. I was scared for you. So I went down there to deal with it, but the thing attached itself to me, and now it's running around with all my powers, and then some, and I've been racing around trying to catch him, but I don't know where he is or how to stop him…and I need your help."

"At least you were honest with me, eventually. Listen Clark, if you didn't agree with something I was doing, you should have come and talked to me, instead of breaking into my lab and trying to destroy one of my projects. Now there's a super-powered madman on the loose and he's immune to Kryptonite, and he has my father!"

"There wasn't any time, Lex. I had to stop him. I had to. I'm sorry for screwing it up, and from now on I promise to do whatever it takes to save your dad. We can do it. Between the two of us we can do anything."

"I'm going to need your help with this thing, Clark. I think I have an idea, but—I haven't done actual lab work since I was in high school, but if I can find a way to alter the meteor rocks to change them to his specific DNA, then I would be able to hurt him, and then you can do whatever it takes to get rid of –whatever it is." Clark nods, still unable to look at me. Then he sort of hugs me, and takes a step backwards.

"What do you need me to do?" he asks, as I wrap my arms around him. Slowly and gently stroking his hair. I'm not sure I know how to break the news to him. I can't ask him to do this, can I? It's not right, but he's the only who can be around the phantom—clone thing, without arousing suspicion. "Lex, it can't be that bad, just tell me."

"I'm gonna need you to get a sample of his D.N.A.," I explain, and Clark stares at me, blankly for a moment. Then his eyes widen, and he shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"You mean—I've gotta…you know, with this thing?"

"Unless you think you can stick a needle in his arm and get me some blood." Clark shakes his head again. "I'm sorry, believe me, if I thought he would trust me, I'd go and do it myself, I can't."

"And he might hurt you." Clark touches my face for the third or fourth time today. "What about your dad? Is he safe? You don't think it would hurt Lionel, do you?" Then he kisses the top of my head, and races away again. I sit down at my desk, and lay my head in my hands, alone for the first time since this whole thing stared.

After fifteen minutes of fighting it, I start to cry, slow, soft tears at first, but they build and build, until I am sobbing hysterically. I cry so hard, and for so long that I completely wear myself out, physically, and I fall asleep.

//XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Flash Back XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX//

"Lex, Son," my father's voice filled up my ears. I was about fourteen-years-old, skinny, short for my age, geeky—a real loser. My mother had died the year before, and my father hand I had never been further apart. I was between schools, having just gotten kicked out of the last one, after I scared with a couple of kid's science experiments. It exploded all over their faces, turning their face and hands bright purple.

They had deserved it though; these two guys had cornered me in the library, beaten me up, and snapped my right arm like a twig the day before. Dad sent one of his minions to come and pick me up from school. He had not spoken to me once the whole time I had been home. I wasn't sure he would ever talk to me again. I woke up, with a start. I had been sleeping in my room, naked except for the cast on my arm, with only a thin, silky sheet.

"Jesus, Dad!" I shouted, pulling the sheet up towards my chest, trying to cover myself up as much as possible. "I was sleep. I was—I'm naked for crying out loud! Ever hear of knocking?"

"Oh, Lex, I used to change your diapers, when you were a baby. There's nothing there I haven't seen before, but if it would make you feel more comfortable, I'll wait in the hall while you get dressed," he offered.

"Like you ever changed a diaper in your life," I scoffed, completely ignoring the rest of his statement.

"You have a birthmark between the place where your leg meets your hip, on the front of the left side of your body. It's a pinkish-brown color, about the size of a dime, and oval shaped," he told me. I decided not to ask who had given him that piece of information, still believing that he had never taken care of me, even in my infancy. "What happened to your arm?"

"I fell out of a tree," I snapped, still mad that the whole thing ha d happened in the first place. I wasn't about to be humiliated in front of my father. I told myself I wouldn't crack under the pressure.

"Your headmaster told me a couple of boys stalked you, and they grabbed your arm, each of them pulling it opposite directions. They told me the doctor was considering putting in a surgical pin," he said, gently examining my arm, and kissing my fingers the way mom would have done.

"Nobody told me that," I admitted, trying to look away, but when I turned back, the look in my father's eyes was enough to let me know that he had asked the doctor not to tell me. "If it was _that_ bad, how come you didn't come to see me?"

"I was planning to come, but you got yourself expelled the very next day," my father chuckled softly. The whole time he was talking, I found myself scooting closer and closer to him. After my mother died the two of us had found solace in each other, first just holding one and other and crying together, and later, making love.

But then I had done something—I still wasn't sure exactly what—and he had gotten mad enough to send me back to school. "I missed you too, Lex," he whispered, kissing my arm, just above the cast, and he slowly pushed me down on the mattress…

//XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Back to the Present XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX//

"Lex?" Clark's voice breaks through the silence. When I look up its dark outside. The moon has just ridden, and the sky is dotted here and there with tiny, fiery, little stars. My watch says just after 11:00. Clark's holding a paper cup filled with—well I'd rather not think about that.

"Would it make you feel horrible if I hugged you?" I ask, standing up and wrapping my arms around him just the same. Clark puts the cup down, snuggling to me, sniffing my neck, kissing me.

"The whole thing was sort of—weird, but not bad. He was pretty good, if you wanna know the truth. I mean not that I don't think you are—it was just something different, but not bad, and I left right after he finished." Then he strokes the side of my face, and starts rubbing my shoulders. "What were you dreaming about? You were talking in your sleep, and smiling. You looked happy."

"I was—my father, actually," I tell him with a small smile. Clark gives me a very understanding nod, and he hugs me again. "So let's get to work on defeating the monster, huh?" Then he smiles, and follows me to the lab, where I get to work on the new Kryptonite.


	7. Love on a Farmboy's Wages

So this chapter is in Clark's POV, and it goes back in time a little, and switches to past tense. Next chapter will be back in Lex's point of view but for now we are with Clark.

"Lets admit we made a mistake  
But can we still be friends  
Heartbreaks never easy to take  
But can we still be friends  
Its a strange, sad affair  
Sometimes seems like we just don't care  
Don't waste time feeling hurt  
We've been through hell together," Todd Rudgren

Clark's POV:

When I told Lex that I broke into his lab and that the phantom attached itself tome, I wasn't being completely honest. What I didn't tell him was that I was the one who snuck Bizzaro out of the lab, and brought him back to the farm. I didn't tell Lex how I had been keeping Bizzaro at the farm for a little over two weeks, or that we'd spent that time making love and eating lots and lots of takeout. I didn't tell Lex that Lana had actually mistaken him for me, and that he was the one who blabbed my secret to her, in the hopes that it would make Lana fall in love with him.

I didn't tell Lex about the major crush Bizzaro had on Lionel or how I had asked him to just stay in the barn no matter how long I was gone, when I went to talk to Lex, and that naturally he didn't listen to me, because Lionel showed up at the farm while I was out. I didn't tell Lex that Bizzaro broke his promise and that he had left the loft, raced down stairs the minute Lionel had showed up. But then again I think I would have done the same thing. So I guess I can't really blame Bizzaro for coming out of hiding when Lionel's car pulled up, knowing full well that even though he looks like me, Lionel would have noticed the difference, especially if they had sex.

Bizzaro is a tiger in the bedroom, and he's a top, and when Lionel realized that something was wrong, it probably caused B to panic, and (I'm guessing) take Lionel away somewhere. After that, he was probably still panicked, which why he ran around Smallville acting crazy.

Before I ran back to the farm, I considered trying to rescue Lionel from the lab. I could have been in and out in no time, and if I returned him to the mansion, the three of us might have been able to work something out so Bizzaro could stay at the farm, and see Lionel from time to time, without Lex having to know that he was still around. But I knew that he would have booby trapped wherever he was holding Lionel, so that he could catch Lex or me in any sort of attempt to come and get him.

So I had to do what Lex wanted, and eventually I knew I would have to send him back to the Phantom Zone. As soon as I left the mansion I ran right to the farm, and I searched all over for Lionel, but he wasn't there, and then I called Bizzaro on the cell phone I had bought him the week before.

"Hey, Clark, what's vertical?" he asked. English is _not_ his first language, and while he's mastered formal speech, he's having a little bit of trouble with slang, by which I mean he's trying to learn the rest of English from watching TV, and so his slang sucks. It's so bad it's actually funny.

"Actually—it's 'what's up,' and what is up, is that you kidnapped my boyfriend's father!"

"I thought you said that things between you and Lex were finished and that you and that girl who kissed me were going to get back together."

"Lana's changed her mind, _again_. She left Lex and moved in with Chloe."

"Is that the annoying one who was going out with the pretty blonde boy who came by the house on Tuesday?"

"No, that's Lois. Chloe's the one who used to have a crush on me, and then she investigated me for Lionel for a while, and then got him to confess to killing his parents, when she got sprayed with that truth gas. After that Alicia told her about my abilities and she's been my best friend/sidekick ever since Pete left."

"You have too many friends, with really weird lives. So, this whole Lionel thing is a little out of control, but I didn't kidnap him. Well I did, but he's okay. I'm not hurting him."

"Then just let him go. Lionel is nice, and he probably even likes you. He'd give you money if you wanted it and then maybe he can convince Lex to forget that you even exist, but if you keep this up, Lex won't be happy until I send you back to the Phantom Zone, and Lionel will be okay with it too!"

"Lex does know that I am stronger than you, right?" I didn't have to tell him I hadn't mentioned that particular fact to Lex. "How about the fact that I can fly, does he know that?"

"I've been working on that one. I wanted to show him as a surprise," I explained. Bizzaro smiled, taking my hand in his, squeezing it. "I told him I was gonna try and fight you, so I could get Lionel back. Just tell him he's okay. I wanna see him. No, I have to." At this point, he handed me the cell phone, which had a couple pictures on it. One had Lionel tied to a chair, he looked like he was asleep, and there was a copy of the morning edition of the Daily Planet taped to his chest. There was also a short video of the same thing.

In the last picture Lionel was awake, but he looked frightened. I don't think I had ever seen him scared, except that one time when Jeremiah was about to sacrifice him, but that time, Lex got to be the hero. He untied Lionel. He took his dad home. Lex got to draw him a bath, and pour him a brandy. Lex got to—comfort him, and Lex wouldn't let me (or anyone else) near him a while month.

Bizzaro must have seen that look in my eyes, because he rushed over to my side—he had been walking towards the kitchen to get a snack—and then he said something I wasn't expecting to hear.

"Lionel thought I was you. That is—I mean, he wouldn't have, 'done it' with me, if he had figured out who I was, what I was. He really likes you, and he—he didn't know."

"And you didn't say anything to, you know; let him know that you weren't me?" I shouted.

"Is there anything else you wanted to do besides yell at me, because I've been getting enough of that at the lab. I wouldn't go over there if I were you. I still have some Kryptonite left. It's like fifty cups of coffee in one."

"So you need it right now? That's too bad. I was hoping that you might have the energy to fool around for a while," I said, trying to sound disappointed, but I was starting to get real pissed off at him, and the only person who I have ever had angry sex with was Lex. Although, I still have to be careful, when we do that. One time, I got kind of carried away, and slammed Lex's body into he marble floors so hard that I actually broke his arm, in two places. Lex had to go to the hospital, and have a surgical pin put in.

The really weird thing about the whole situation was that we weren't even mad at each other that time. I had just gotten into a huge fight with my dad (I think that was the day I came out to him) and Lex and Lionel were, as usual, "not speaking to each other." After that fight, Lionel had come by, and thank God I was alone in the loft, because even though I had told my parents I was gay I hadn't mentioned that I was sleeping with Lex yet, and if they had heard what Lionel and I were talking about they would have kicked me out.

Anyway, Lionel came up to the loft to talk to me and he said that if Lex ever got hurt my be again, he would see to it that hurting Lex was the last thing I ever did. After that I started working on my control, and it was a long time before I even tried doing anything rough with Lex again. That night also marks the anniversary of the first time Lionel and I kissed. I hadn't tried rough sex with Bizzaro yet, but was starting to consider it when he turned to me, smiling.

"Well that was bold. I didn't think you would come right out and say it, especially considering what we were just talking about." I shrugged. "Look, about the Lionel thing, I'm not gonna hurt him, and as soon as Lex gives me the money I'll disappear. You could come with me. It would be perfect, just you and me on some tropic island paradise, sipping Piña Coladas and watching the sunset."

"I can't—I have a life here, responsibilities, people I love and who love me. I'm not leaving," I told him, purposely leaving out the part about how I had decided Lex was right and he didn't even mention that he had asked Lex for Kryptonite. . Bizzaro hadn't hurt Lionel, _yet_,but as much as I loved how being with him made me feel he was dangerous and had to be stopped.

I know that's a tad hypocritical, but I can keep Lex under control, and he's trying to change, and I know he's at a place where he still can. No mater how hard I try, no matter what I do, no matter ho much love I give him, Bizzaro is who he is. That's just his nature. So, we messed around for a while, and I brought Lex the sample, and he disappeared into his lab for about ten hours, durring which time Bizzaro called me once, with another photo, to show that Lionel was, 'okay,' and sent me a text messaging saying that he was gonna sleep at the house, if I was free later on.

Then Lex came out of his office, holding a bright blue rock in his hand. His shirt was wrinkled, the tails out, and he had unbuttoned it. There were sweat stains all down his back, and chest, and under his arms. His face was flushed, and his eyelids even looked heavy. Lex came into the bedroom, and promptly collapsed on the bed, looking like he couldn't even stand up, let alone go into battle with a super villain.

"So, I'm supposed to meet him with the money and the meteor—Kryptonite tomorrow, and I think the best thing would be to put this and a bunch of regular kryptonite in a case a lead one—he can't see through that either, right?" Lex asked. I nodded. "And then I get him to open it and I'll force him the room where we were keeping the kid, and then you come back in with that crystal and send him back, okay?"

"He's not stupid, Lex. If you bring a lead briefcase he's going to know that something's up. He won't take it from you. Give me the rock, I'll go there and get rid of him," I said, praying that if I tried this plan Bizzaro would tell me where he was holding Lionel before I sent him back, and that Lex wouldn't point out this particular flaw.

"He's not going to accept a trapped briefcase from me, but he'll just tell you where my father is, when you're about to zap him into never, never paroled land?" Lex smirked, and I gave him a dirty look. "What do we do?"

I wasn't sure there was a way to trap Bizzaro. Beside the new blue Kryptonite, he didn't have any weaknesses. I mean, his sex drive—he was insatiable, but he was always in control, always. "You're thinking of something, I just don't know what."

"Well, he really likes Sex," I admitted, blushing a little. I guess I'm still a bit shy when it comes to talking about this stuff. Lex looked over at me like I was some sort of an idiot for even bringing that up.

"Clark everybody likes sex, especially guys, and I know you think that he probably really, really, _really_ likes sex, but unless he falls asleep immediately after having an orgasm then the sex thing is not helpful."

"If you—or I—could distract him with sex, then the other one could find Lionel, get him out of there and then come back with the Kryptonite. I dunno. I guess that's an even stupider idea than my first one," I told him, looking away.

"You're trying to manipulate me. I'm a horrible person, just look at what I've turned you into. It's not a stupid idea, but I'm not—it's not a good one either. It's dangerous for me to try and seduce him, or for you to go into the lab, unprotected."

"Your dad came to the farm looking for me, but instead he found Bizzaro," I blurted out. I didn't mean to let Lex know how guilty I felt about all of this, but I figured that once I said that I might as well tell him everything. "I feel responsibly, especially since I shouldn't have had contact with the phantom to begin with. We can fix this, I can fix it, and if you can't or won't help, then I'll do it myself.

"Fine," Lex sighed, punching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes with his finger tips. Then he stood up, walked across the room, poured himself a full glass of scotch, and drained it in one gulp.

"Lex, if you don't wanna do this, we can find another way to save your dad. The last thing I wanna do is force you into something you're not comfortable with, especially if you could get hurt."

"That's, what you think is bothering me about this plan? I'm not worried about the sex, he looks just like you, and—I'm fine with that. It's just—why couldn't it have been me? Lionel's the one who knows how to deal with this sort of situation."

"You mean like when Rachel Dunlevy kidnapped you, and tried to put an axe through your head, when he announced on TV that he wasn't gonna give into her demands?"

"Yeah, and you ran in and saved me. Don't think I didn't know that the two of you were already together in those days. He sent you to find me, it didn't occur to him that you might not get there in time, which you did." Then Lex started to walk out of the room.

"Lex," I called out, racing after him, and grabbing his arm. Lex looked away, biting down on his lip. "He's at the farm. If you go there right now, you'll probably catch him before he goes back to the lab."

"It's weird, the sex thing—I'm not at all worried about that. I think it might even be enjoyable, but I'm just so worried about my father. I'm scared that you aren't going to be able to find him, or that you'll get there, but that psychopath will have already killed him. I'm terrified of losing him.

"We still have a lot of things we need to work out. My mom died when I was just a kid, and despite our relationship, how physically close we've gotten, all of the times he's made love to me, all of the stuff he's taught me, showed, we aren't—we don't get along that well. I was hoping we still had a chance. I wanted to prove to him that I'm worthy of his love. I was—I wanted to show him that I deserve everything he gives me, and all the things he is going to give me.

"I just wanted to hear him say, one time, that he loved me, and know he really meant it…I'm going to the farm. Find my father, please. I'll do anything, give you whatever you want. You have my word."

"Lex, I want him back almost as much as you do. Just knowing that he's okay will be enough of a reward for me. I love your dad. He means a lot to me," I said, hugging Lex again. "And he loves you, he does. He just—doesn't know how to show you."

"If only that were true," Lex told me, removing my arms from his shoulders and walking away from me, string straight ahead. "And Clark, bring him back here no matter what, but bring him back safe, okay?" he begged, as he climbed into the car and drove away.


	8. Everybody's Had Everybody

Author's Notes: I love happy endings. This is finished. Oh and quick warning, there are a couple of rough scenes between Lex and Bizzaro in this chapter, but nobody is permanently damaged.

"I am unraveling unbearably empty  
and if this ground gives way  
I just hope that you catch me.  
You came and saved me tonight  
Defending all my life  
Now I'm content with my breathe  
Cuz I'm alive," Spilled Canvas

When Clark told me that this guy looked exactly like him, he forgot to mention that Bizzaro is basically porcelain colored god. He has Clark's eyes, but they are some how sharper and more pure. His hair is about two shades darker, but it might only look that way because of his pale skin. Still, he is the most incredibly, amazing, beautiful creature on the planet, in the universe. Too bad I have to send him away…maybe I can keep him here, locked up some place, my super secret sex slave, no—I shouldn't risk what might happen if he got loose.

"If you think you can come here or threaten me, or something, I should tell you that Kryptonite doesn't hurt me," he says as I walk through the front door. There are a couple slices of bread, a jar of peanut butter and strawberry jam on the kitchen counter.

"I know that, Clark told me. If those are for my dad, he's allergic to peanuts. So unless you want me to find a way to mutate kryptonite so that it _will_ hurt you, don't give him that. It could kill him. But I didn't come here to talk about my father. Clark is a great guy. He loves me, and nobody loves me. He's nice to me. He gives me nice things, and even brings me milk and cookies, but he's lousy in bed. You kidnapped my father, tried to extort money from me, but I'm guessing you could easily be the best lover I've ever had."

"I'm not anybody's 'lover,' but if you're interested, I could manage," Bizzaro explains as he zips across the room, grabbing me by the shoulders and forcing me to the ground so hard I could have sworn I heard my left kneecap shatter. "For you to preform a service or two."

I wasn't expecting this, although I'm not sure why. This is exactly how Clark described the guy. "I gotta make sure you're worth my time before I commit to fucking your brains out. Even if you are the sexiest thing under thirty around here." I have more than a few witty retorts to that, but before I get the chance to say anything, Bizzaro has his cock not only in my mouth, but down my throat.

He is not Clark, not in any way, and I actually do have to work to get him to cum for me, and while it doesn't break any of my old records, I must have done something right, because right after I swallowed about a gallon of his cum—which seems like way too much even for an alien—Bizzaro picks me up, scans my legs, and dust off my shoulders. "You're prettier than Clark or your father give you credit for."

"My father told you that he and I are—he told you that?"

"Clark."

"Jesus that kid's got a big mouth."

'Well it's got to be good for something."

"Yeah, but what he lacks in talent he more than makes up for in enthusiasm and love and," I stop myself, realizing that while I could continue to defend Clark with all my love and attention, it's boring, and I need to stall Bizzaro, take advantage of a one time only sex experience, and make sure that Clark is able to get Dad, burring him home, and come back here before this zoner screws me so far into the bed that no one will be able to get me out.

Bizzaro rips my shirt of, encircling my nipple with his tongue, over and over, completely ignoring the fact that it's been about fifteen minutes and I already feel like I'm going to explode.

"Stop," I whimper, trying to pull away, but he's gripping my wrists tightly enough to leave bruises. "That hurts," I plead, loudly, know that it's too soon for Clark to even be in the neighborhood, but I'm still hoping he might here me. I'm also starting to wonder if this was such a good idea.

"I think I should go," I tell him, trying to stand up. We're in Clark's bedroom before I can say another word. I'm naked, and my pants and whatnot, are somewhere between the kitchen and here. He pushes me onto the bed, starting on his own clothing.

"Don't tell me that after your fantastic little audition, you're actually having second thoughts." He laughs. "No, you haven't changed your mind. Lionel said you've always been a whinny little brat," he tells me, trying to make me feel pathetic enough to stay.

Only, I know my father would never say that. He told me that as a baby, and toddler, I almost never cried. They figured out latter that it was probably because the asthma made it painful and difficult to let my breath out in those long butts, but I don't mention that. "Aww, you gonna cry now?" Bizzaro taunts, making an adorable pouty face.

"If my wrists are broken, I'll sue your fucking ass off. Forget that briefcase full of cash I'm getting ready for you, you're gonna have to give at least five million blow jobs to make up for this." I have to admit, that's not bad for a guy who's going to need help wiping his own ass for the next month.

"Cute—now get up, that is if you think your pipe cleaner arms of yours can support your whole body," he orders, and I know that things are only going to get rougher and more painful from here on out. I bite down on my lip, to keep from crying. I want to get fucked by this prettier, stronger version of Clark Kent, especially since Dad got to have him, and we're more competitive than a couple of love starved siblings. So, I push myself onto my hands and knees, and luckily Bizzaro does not forgo the lubricant.

Clark was right. Bizzaro is a tiger. I am going to be sore for at least a week, and when I go to the bathroom to clean myself up afterwards, there's a small amount of blood on the washcloth, and bruises all over my thighs, and arms.

I walk back into the bedroom, trying to figure out which of my wrists hurts more, and what I should talk about with Bizzaro while I wait for Clark to show up. Then I see a flash of something red and blue from the corner of my eyes.

"Just out of curiosity, what id you and my father talk about, do—what did you do to him?" I ask, knowing that at any moment know Clark is going to knock the guy into the next galaxy.

"I would never hurt Lionel. I lo—he's a wonderful man, beautiful too, and I just wanted to talk to him. He thought I was Clark, but when he realized what I am, I panicked. I'm surprised you haven't—oh, oomph." Bizzaro falls to the ground, clutching his stomach and moaning.

"It's okay Lex, I got him. He's safe at home now," Clark tells me. Then he turns back to the monster. "I told you to stay in the barn. I told you not to talk to anyone. E had a good thing." Clark stands on top of him, kicking his chest, and back, over and over and over and over. Then Clark pulls the crystal from his pocket, holding it out in front of his tear stained cheeks. When the creature is finally gone, Clark rushes me back to the mansion.

My father, who is already in his room let's me join him in bed, while Clark gets ice and some bandages for my writs. Dad seems to be mostly unaffected by the whole deal, as he pulls me into his arms, kissing my wounds softly.

"Clark told me what you did," he explains, laying me back against the pillow and pouring us each a drink. I'm ready for him to tell me how badly I screwed up or for him to critique everything that's happened, pointing out every careless, stupid mistake I made. "I'm proud of you Lex. I don't think I would have been able to come up with a solution like that. You did the right thing."

"Are you saying that because you really feel that way or because you think it's what I want to hear?"

"I'm saying it because it's true. The whole time I was in that room, I kept thinking about you, about our relationship. You haven't been doing so well lately Lex. I blame myself mostly. I was not a good father to you, and now you're not sure how to behave, and what kid of a person you should be. I want us to work on that now. I want you to be a good man, a kind man."

"You want me to be more like Clark, is what you really want isn't it?"

"Well that would hardly be fair of me, now would it?" he asks, gently placing his hand on the inside of my thigh, "I want you to be the best man you can be, and I want you to know that I will be proud of you no matter what happens."

This would make a perfect moment for my father to say the words, 'I love you,' but I know he'll never do that. "There's something else," he says. Clark returns and starts to put ice on both of my wrists.

"Lionel, you remember that thing we were talking about the other day," Clark says, kissing him softly on the mouth. I can't help but feel like their child in this situation. Clark hugs me, racing downstairs and coming back up with dinner for all three of us. Then he climbs into bed, sitting on my side, kissing the top of my head, and even offering to feed me,

"If you two keep acting like a married couple, and treating me like your kid, it's gonna make having a threesome incredibly awkward," I announce, sort of giggling a little bit. And then Dad makes a strange face.

"You are my child."

"Yeah, but Clark's not my mother and you haven't acted like a father to me sine I was three years old and you were yelling at me for—well actually I don't remember what, but you suck at being my daddy. As my lover, on the other hand, as my boyfriend, you have always been amazing. You've been really good to me ever since I was twelve and the two of us needed—well we needed each other."

"You needed your father and I took advantage of a vulnerable little boy. My son came to me, sobbing n the middle of the night, missing your mother, and desperate for my love and attention, and I took you into my bedroom and assaulted you."

"No you didn't. This wasn't a case of some creepy pervert going into his kid's room and sticking it in him. You held me in your arms every night for a month. One day I woke up with a hard o, and I was humiliated—mortified. I didn't know what it was or what it meant. You didn't touch me that day. But you explained what it was and what to do.

"I woke up early the next day, remembering how good it had felt and how it helped me forget about how bad I felt, and I wanted to make you feel better. When you woke me up and saw what I was doing, you made me stopped and explained that you didn't want to hurt me, and how I didn't have to do that for you to want me around, and to make you take care of me.

"Then I explained how the day before—how it took my mind off the pain, and how being with you made me feel less lonely and that I had thought of a way for us to heal our hearts. It took almost a month for me to convince you that I was mature enough to handle it, to show you I understood what we were about you to do and for you to accept that this was something I wanted for myself and not some desperate please for your love.

"If I've become a bad person, it's not because you had sex with me, but because I was just trying to live up to our expectations, and following in your footsteps. That part of our relationship was pretty much the only thing you didn't do wrong."

"Lex, Lionel, it's been a long day, maybe we shouldn't talk about this right now," Clark says, trying to diffuse what he sees as a potential situation between my father and myself. "Lex, can you see that you are in a dark place right now, and if so, are you ready to change?"

"Yeah," I barely manage to squeak out. "Yes. I've made some mistakes, but I'm not the—," and then Clark cuts me off.

"And Lionel, can you see that the way you raised your son—regardless of the sex thing—was cruel and unfair, and that by pushing Lex and constantly testing him, you really hurt him, and you're just as responsible for how he turned out, and the things he's done?"

Then Clark and I turn and look over at my dad, who doesn't say a word. He just stares at both Clark and I, as if the two of us are a couple of mental patients, or something equally stupid.

"If Lex can't accept the things he has done and take responsibility for them, it is not my job to…"

"Lionel!" Clark demands, giving him the angriest and most dirty look I have ever seen. "You know how much influence a parent has on their children. That's why you think that this is a bad thing. You've figured out that something you did turned Lex into what he is, you can't deny that."

"No," my father admits, "but he can't go on blaming me for everything that goes wrong in his life. Eventually he will have to start taking responsibility for his own actions." Typical Lionel. He both admits and denies everything in one breath. No wonder I became an evil monster, with all of his Luthor training how could I not be like this?

"He just did, and now he's going to apologize. Lex I want you to tell your father you're sorry." If Clark thinks he can make me do that, he's crazy. I shake my head, afraid of what I might say, if I actually open my mouth. "Fine, Lionel, you go first. Tell your son that you're sorry and explain to Lex that you love him." He doesn't answer at first. I'm sure he's going to say, 'no, I don't love you,' and then walk away, but once again, my father surprises me.

"Of course I love him. Lex is my son; I have always cared for him. Lex you know that don't you? Son?" I tell myself, just sit there and nod your head. Don't say a word. Don't let him know. Don't show him how pathetic you really are. He can't know that. "Lex?" Dad's voice is quiet, pained. If the situation were different I might even feel bad for him, but right at this very moment I'm grateful, because he's in as much pain as I am. What my father does next, is completely unexpected.

"Clark, my son and I need some privacy right now. Do you think you could come by some time tomorrow? I'm certain we will both be feeling much better by then. He kisses Clark goodbye, and Clark kisses me, and rushes off. "I don't think we'll ever get used to that," Dad says with a smile.

"At least we know when he's coming," I tell him, proud of being able to have a snarky retort, and with the speed with which it came to me. Dad laughs, looking deeply into my eyes, staring for a long time, and then he grabs me, pulls me into his arms, holds my body close to his, an d starts to rub my back with his big, soft hands.

"I love you, Lex. I am so sorry. I never meant for you to not know that, but I have always," he pauses, pushing me away just a little so I can look into his eyes, "always, loved you, and I will never stop. I love you so much…but you don't believe me, do you?"

At first I say nothing, burry my head in his chest, squeeze my eyes shut tight, trying hard not to start crying, but the tears come all the same. "I'm sorry, Lex, and I do love you, and if you need me to, I can continue to remind you of that every hour, if you think it will help."

"Maybe we should start with every half an hour, just for a very short time, I mean, but if you wanna just do every hour that's okay too, I mean whatever you wanna do is okay with me," I stammer, trying to force the tears to stop, without any success. "Or if you think it's too much we can cut it down to once a day or once a week or moth, or never. I know it isn't easy for you to be nice. Emotions aren't exactly your strong suit."

"I knew I was abusing you. I just assumed it was our physical relationship, but I was wrong. I tried to raise you to be like me, without realizing the damage it was doing to you, without realizing how damaged I am. I should have listened to your mother, been nicer to you, treated you gently, told you that I loved you on a regular basis, hugged you, and tucked you in at night. I should have been a father to you. I was a lousy dad and I let my little boy down. Do you think you can forgive me for that, Lex?" he asks, still holding me, hugging me.

"Yeah, at least, I think so. It might not be easy but I want us to have a good relationship too, and now that I know you really do love me, as long as you keep telling me, I think I'll be able to start believing you one day and if—I think we can do this. I think we can be okay, but you can't go at this half-assed, and you have to be there for me, and you gotta keep on being there. No—you can't go back the way you used to be. You can't hurt me, ever again. And no more lies, okay?"

"I know that right now my word doesn't mean very much to you, but I promise that it will. One day, in week, or a month, or a year, you are going to wake up and all of that pain and insecurity and fear it's all going to disappear, and you are going to feel better. You will be happy. I promise everything will be okay," he says and I'm not sure whether he's right or not. I think we should try nonetheless. What's the harm in trying? "I love you, Lex," he tells me, yet again.

"I love you too, Dad. I love you too," and that's the truth. I really do love my father, and he loves me, and everything is going to be okay.


End file.
